


Salt of the Earth

by MooseFeels



Series: Revelation [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Hospitals, Hurt Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Omega Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-04-01
Packaged: 2018-03-18 11:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3567221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooseFeels/pseuds/MooseFeels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's in the hospital; something might be wrong. It's scaring everyone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place before Ceremony.

_It is a garden inside of him, full of big bright blooms of color. Big shapes. Big meaning._

These are the things Dean has whispered to Sam over the course of the past hour.

Something about the painkiller they have him on, it’s got his brother loopy. Disconnected from time and place, just laying in the bed. Floating, in an absent kind of way.

It’s scary.

Granted, so much about being here-- these past few days---so much about it has been scary.

Not quite as scary as when Dean disappeared all at once, out of nowhere, for no reason, but it’s own kind of scary. But first his brother had the mark, huge on his face. As big as Sam’s hand, leaving a shiny white-and-red space over his cheek, an unspeakably big mark meaning unspeakably big things.

Sam had thought maybe he had died. He thought maybe they had killed him.

He didn't know that they would do _this_ to his brother.

And then Dean had been attacked by that _asshole_ , and then Dean had just snapped.

Sam had never seen Dean like that-- he'd seen him angry a few times, but it had never been like how John had been angry. And even what happened out there, and at the station, it hadn't been angry the way John had been angry. This was _raw_. This was intense.

Dean lays in the hospital bed, though, drifting.

There's a IV line going to his arm, and Sam's told that it's a saline solution alongside a pretty heavy-duty pain killer.

He had an x-ray earlier. They're doing bloodwork right now. A doctor had come in wearing gloves, trying to press and feel for something wrong on Dean's middle. Dean had grunted and whimpered and whined.

And now he's drifting.

Dean smiles a watery, distant kind of smile at Sam, and he murmurs, "Where's Cas?"

"He's at home, back at the pack," Sam answers. "But you'll be out of here soon or he'll be here soon. I promise. And I'm here as long as you need me."

Dean inhales for a long moment, and then he says, "Okay." His answer is soft and faintly satisfied. "Am I sick?"

Sam shrugs. "Maybe?" He replies. "They don't think you have internal bleeding but I think they're worried about other kinds of damage, to your organs or something."

"Oh," Dean says. He closes his eyes, deeply. They flicker back open slowly.

"You can go to sleep," Sam says, softly.

"Okay," Dean replies, and his eyes drift back closed again.

* * *

Castiel sits in his cabin, after the meeting, and waits by the phone.

He does his dishes (twice). He fold his laundry. He paces. God, he paces.

He doesn't sleep.

He's pacing, until six am, when the phone _finally_ rings.

Castiel snatches it from the hook, and Anna says, "It's not internal bleeding, but they're worried."  
"What do you mean they're 'worried?'" Castiel demands. "What does that mean, Anna, what-"

"His blood tests, something looks funny. He's got bruised ribs and that's gonna mean he's basically on bedrest for a few weeks, but his blood tests- something hormonal looks _off_. They want him to see a specialist-"  
"It's a city hospital, they should have that   _there_!" Castiel exclaims, interrupting.

Anna doesn't say anything for a long moment, and the she says, "I'll continue if you stop interrupting me."

Castiel takes a long, deep breath. "Okay," he says. "Okay."  
"They have a few ideas," she says, "they're being tight lipped- apparently they don't want to cause undue distress. They think it might be nothing, but if it's not...Cas, it might be something serious."

"Fuck," Castiel mutters. " _Fuck_."

"I'm figuring out how much longer we're going to be up here. If it's more than two days, you need to come and Gabriel needs to go."

" _Fuck,"_ Castiel repeats.

"He's on the pack insurance," Anna says.

"I'm not worried about how much this might cost, dammit!" Castiel growls.

"Cas," Anna says. "Go to bed.  I'll call you when there's more to know."

"Tell Dean- fuck, Anna, tell him-"

"I know," she says. "He knows."

The line goes dead.

Castiel kicks the table, and it hurts his foot.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Dean looks small in the hospital room.

Dean pays the pack rent with money he earns from his artwork. Castiel's been putting it in a separate account, in case Dean decides he wants to go to college travel out somewhere or (and this is a thought that keeps Castiel awake, late into the night) the police finally bust his old pack open and lawsuits begin.

But Cas is glad it's there right now and Dean won't have to spend his own money on this, because even with pack insurance, it's going to be expensive. It's his third day in there now and they've done blood tests and some kind of scan that Anna's told him is basically a giant x-ray.

And looking at Dean in the bed, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted-- god, does he look small.

Castiel's more or less used to Dean being asleep or Dean's mind not quite being present- the loose and sleepy and altered state that his heat puts him in. He's even used to seeing him with an IV. But in the bed, under the lights, in the hospital gown-- god, he looks so clinical and small.

Gabriel's taken Sam to get something to eat, and Anna's off talking to the nurses.

Castiel sits on the edge of the bed, next to Dean, stirs slightly, his body and face drifting towards Castiel.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel murmurs.

Dean doesn't respond, but he does sleep on.

The door opens, and Anna gestures out, into the hallway.

Castiel gets up, reluctantly, and steps out of the room.

The doctor is a woman with long, dark hair and playful eyes. "Are you the mate?" she asks. 

Castiel flinches. "Yes," he answers. He feels guilty with it suddenly.

"Okay," she says, "well, we ran bloodwork for Mr. Winchester in there and we're quite concerned, actually- it looks like there might be a possibility for a genetic condition. Do you have any information on his family health history?"

Castiel shakes his head. "No," he answers, feeling his stomach sink.

The doctor nods a couple of times. "Well, we noticed just some-- abnormalities and we're trying to-"

"What is it?" Castiel asks. "Please. Please just...just tell me."

"He has abnormalities n his blood type that suggest a lack of genetic diversity in his recent family history and he has some indicators of malnutrition in early childhood. We're still doing some testing to see what's going on but he might have some serious- there might be serious issues."

"What kind of-"  
"We're worried he's at a much higher risk for certain cancers, pre-natal diabetes, certain mental health issues, about his ability to carry a viable fetus," she says. "We're not sure yet. We don't know. It's still unclear. The injuries he sustained in the fight are worrisome and I'm not sure if you'd had the resources to take care of broken ribs out where you are- I'm quite glad you brought him in and from what we've gathered from his brother and your sister here he's quite lucky to be alive at all, but I don't think it's all going to be okay yet, and I don't want to send him back to the middle of nowhere we've tested everything we can. " She sighs, heavily. "We've still got him on medications for the broken ribs in there, that's why he's been so out of it. We should have most of the tests we need to do done in the next day or so. I'm genuinely sorry this is taking so long and I don't have any definite news for you."

She runs her hands through her long, dark hair.

"Thank you, Doctor Barnes," Anna says.

Castiel can't really breathe. 


	3. Chapter 3

Dean wakes up slowly, blinking his eyes open. The lights are low in his room and there is no sunlight coming through his window. He blinks a few more times and moves to rub at his eyes. He turns, and sitting in a chair beside his bed is Castiel.

His head has fallen forward, his chin resting on his chest. His mouth is slack. Castiel always looks tired; Dean knows it has to do with being an Alpha and the responsibility of the pack, but he also knows it has something to do with how Castiel doesn't take care of himself. He doesn't sleep and he's not good at remembering to eat; Dean can't imagine he's been taking care of himself since he's been in the hospital. He hasn't left his bedside since he came here three days ago.

They keep _testing_ Dean for things. Blood and stool and urine and tissue and spit samples. Cheek scrapings and eye tests and palpitations against his skin with cool, gloved fingers. They even did a pelvic exam. Something else called a CT scan.

They do a lot of tests, but they don't tell Dean anything. Sam had to fly back to California yesterday, but he left a phone number and an address and an email address. Of course, Dean doesn't own a computer and he'd have to go to the library to set up an email of his own, but it's nice to know that he has one more way of hearing from him.

Dean reaches forward and brushes his hand against Castiel's arm.

Castiel shifts awake, sitting up slowly in the chair and straightening and looking at him.

"I want to go home," he says, softly.

Castiel smiles at him, a tired, soft kind of smile.

"I do too," he answers.

Dean scoots over on his bed, closer to his IV stand, and Castiel stands and rolls onto the bed curling up close to Dean.

His body is warm and strong against Dean's chest. He smells like he hasn't showered in a few days, sweaty and tired and musky.

His hand tangles into Dean's and he draws his hand up to his lips, kisses his fingers softly.

"They're worried because the people you lived with in Montana-" Castiel always calls them that- never his old pack, never his family, never his birth pack- "They're worried that because it was so small and because you sometimes didn't have the right things to eat, you might get sick; bad sick. And they're worried that if you tried to...to have a baby, you'd get bad sick. But they're not sure. And they don't want to tell me things and they don't want to tell you things because they're not sure and they don't want you to be scared or have false hope."

His grip tightens on his hand.

Dean can't see his face like this.

"Please know," he says, "that whatever happens, I'm here." Dean feels his shoulders tighten slightly under the drape of his arm.

"I love you, so much. But I'm scared. Beloved, I'm so scared."

Dean pulls in close to him and nestles his nose in close to his neck, pulls up the smell of him.

"Me too," Dean whispers.

Castiel's hand tightens around his fingers a little more.

 


	4. Chapter 4

There’s no discussion about who’s driving Dean home. No discussion, no argument. Gabriel headed back a few hours ago; he’ll be the one opening the diner in the morning for the first time in two weeks, and although Charlie is probably glad for the extra hours and the experience, everyone knows that Gabriel needs something to do. Ellen headed back more than a week ago herself, and Sam’s back in California. Anna left with Gabriel.

Dean looks a little smaller in his clothes than he did when they checked into the hospital. Scant hospital meals and sleeping have left his frame a little more slight than it was. It’s unsettling, and the way the smell of the hospital has started to cover Dean’s scent is all wrong, too. Castiel wants him out of there. Wants to get him back home, to the pack. Cleaned and tucked into bed with a big meal in his belly.

Castiel needs to take care of Dean.

They use the wheelchair to the front door, and then Dean stands up. Castiel wraps his arm around his waist and helps him to the car.

Dean sits in the passenger seat and wraps the seat belt over his chest and waist. Castiel shuts the door behind him and slips around to the driver’s seat. He jams the key into the ignition and they drive away from that place. The hospital. The city.

The traffic slowly thins out, the driving becomes easier even as the roads become rougher.

Castiel clear his throat.

Dean looks from the roadside to Castiel.

Castiel clears his throat again. “I- I suppose- I suppose we need to talk.”

A small smile appears over Dean’s face, twitchy and dear.

“I-I’m sorry I...I'm sorry I was so scared when you had to come here, to the hospital- I was so...I wanted things to happen slowly, and I didn't want to push you or hurt you and when- all of that happened, god, I just...I got lost. I'm sorry. And god, you have to know that you're safe in the pack. You belong in the pack, and there are serious repercussions for hurting you. And that's separate from me being...from me loving you crazy. As Alpha, Dean, you have to know that I am not going to let anyone hurt you."

Castiel feels his hands tighten on his steering wheel.

"I love you," he says. "And when you're ready, I want to make what we have...I want to...Dean, I never want to sleep alone again, and I never want you to have to be alone again."

Castiel pulls through an exit.

"I love you. And I'm not going to ask anything of you until you're ready, and I didn't want you to think something had changed because I got all fucked up and started...started fucking yelling like an idiot."

Dean doesn't say anything for a long time, and then he says, "I don't want to sleep alone, either."

The rest of the drive is quiet. It's not too far to the cabin, especially with Castiel taking the offroad route, up the gravel ad through the woods.

He stops and he looks at Dean and he says, "Is this okay?"

Dean nods.

Castiel opens the door and Dean steps out slowly. He unlocks the cabin door and they both step in.

Dean heads to the bathroom, automatically, and Castiel lights a fire in the stove.

Castiel hears the shower come on, and just as the stove gets lit he feels a hand on his shoulder.

Dean stands behind him, his clothes off, his body dusted with freckles and scars and goosebumps.

He gestures with his head toward the shower.

Castiel gets up, and follows him.

* * *

Dean pulls Castiel's clothes from his body, and he looks at him, standing before him.

All muscle and tanned skin and broad shoulders and _strength._  


Dean tugs him gently into the shower, letting the water fall on them slowly. The heat of it pulls Dean's blood to the surface. He pulls out the bar of soap and washes Castiel's chest and shoulders. He leans against him, against the protection of him. The smell of the hospital dissolves slowly around them, leaving behind that earthiness, that lakewater and lightning smell of Castiel.

Dean leans against him, kisses him softly on his chest.

Castiel's arms wrap around his shoulders for a moment, and then he lets go. He pours a handful of shampoo into his palm and begins to wash Dean's hair.

"You don't have to be scared of me," Dean murmurs as Castiel's fingers tangle into his hair, dragging up a thick lather.

He doesn't say what comes next, it's understood between them, like it has been for so long.

_I trust you not to hurt me._

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Under the spray of the shower, Dean  runs his thumb along Castiel's jawline. His coarse hair drags against Dean's thumb. He hasn't had a razor in the hospital and scruff has popped up there. Castiel smiles.

"You're getting hairy," Dean says.

He reaches out to the shelf and grabs his safety razor and a bar of soap and he lathers his jaw and chin.

And he works and moves carefully and slowly and he shaves Castiel.

Dean himself gets scruffy and that he doesn't mind, but something about the hair on Castiel that looks wrong. Castiel isnt' supposed to look this unkempt, like he is misplaced and no one cares about him. Castiel isn't supposed to look like a lost toy. Castiel is _Dean's_ , and he's Dean's beloved. He's Dean's _mate,_ and it's important that people know that he is cared for. That he is _found_.

Dean works carefully, moving Castiel around gently under the water and rinsing him off.

He lets his hands brush over the surface of his skin, pushing a slick of water off and feeling the warmth of him.

Dean wraps his hand around his head, pulls him forward. He leans into his space and they kiss.

The kiss feels slow and easy and full. It leaves Dean feeling _full,_ like something has bloomed, like something has grown. Like something has become.

Castiel's arm drapes around his waist, brings him closer. They lean against each other, and the kiss is long and slow. It's different from the heats, the few times Dean has kissed him before. They have _time_.

Castiel pulls away from him and he says, "Marry me."

"Okay," Dean answers.

He leans back into him, biting Castiel's lip.

Castiel pulls away for a minute and he shuts the shower off. He pulls a towel off the rack and wraps Dean in it. Dean dries himself, stepping out of the shower, and Castiel follows him.

The stumble, touching each other, into the bedroom.

They are inseparable from each others' orbits. Entwined.

They fall on the bed. Castiel's fingers pulled into his hand, his fingernails soft and shiny under his fingertips.

"You know that no matter what, I'm here? And I'm yours? No matter what," Castiel says.

Dean feels his eyes close easily. Contentedly.

"I know," he answers.

In the next few weeks, there might be news. They might find out that Dean's sick, or that he might get _really_ sick if he tries to have a-

They might find out in a few weeks.

But for now, they have each other tangled up in the bedsheets.

 

 


End file.
